


Do you Want to Build a Snowman?

by writer314



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Acclimatizing to a new century, F/M, Fluff, Gen, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13158093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writer314/pseuds/writer314
Summary: Darcy prompts Steve to build a snowman.  Steve makes Darcy hot chocolate.





	Do you Want to Build a Snowman?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Authenticait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authenticait/gifts).



> Part of the 2017 ShieldShock Christmas Fic Exchange. For @Authenticait, who suggested the best way to drink cocoa, going overboard on stockings, and first snow post-thawing. While first snow post-thawing is not specifically stated, that is the setting for the story. I couldn't fit in the stocking overstuffing. Sorry!

Steve huddled further into his heavy winter coat. He didn't really feel the cold: his super-soldier metabolism aside, the Stark ™ technology in his coat, gloves, and hat ensured even a normal person would stay toasty warm. Still, a frozen puff of air marked the silent escape of a sigh.

"Flashbacks, Steve?" 

Steve turned to look at Dr. Foster's cheery assistant. He paused before deciding that yes, Darcy was the person hiding beneath all those winter layers. "No, Miss Lewis, no flashbacks. I've just never enjoyed winter all that much." 

Steve thought the motion of the pile of clothes indicated a nod. 

"That makes sense. I mean, winter was tough enough in the thirties without the asthma, and I doubt the Western Front was any better, serum or not." 

Steve thought he had heard a bit of a teasing lilt to her voice by the end. He conceded he might be wrong; the last girl to tease him had been Bucky's sister Becca, in 1943. Still, he was sure enough to take a chance. "Not to mention the seventy-year nap on ice," he offered with a wry smile. 

The clothing bundle gave a philosophical shrug. "And that. But still, you must have some good winter memories. Didn't you ever build a snowman? Have a snowball fight?" 

Steve's wry smile grew into a smirk. "This one time, we musta been about eight, Bucky snuck me out down the fire escape – that was probably the most daring thing I've ever done as rickety as that thing was – and we were gonna build a snowman in this vacant lot a coupla blocks away. We figured eight at night, with the snow still coming down, even if it had slowed some, would be safe enough…" 

"Safe? What's not safe about making a snowman?" 

Steve felt a laugh bubbling up from his heart. Between guffaws, he explained, "Well, the lot was right nexta the building where the O'Malley boys lived, and, well, I had stopped Gerry O'Malley from setting a stray cat's tail afire earlier that week. I still had the shiner." 

"Ah, so you weren't their favorite person then. But total props on defending the poor kitty." 

"Props?" Steve struggled to figure out what stage properties had to do with anything. 

"Props is slang for credit, kudos, that sort of thing. So 'total props' on something is an expression of respect or admiration." 

Steve took his turn to nod. He had noticed that about Darcy in the month or so that they'd both been in the tower: she never condescended to him. She assumed he knew things unless he asked, and when he asked, she gave him a straight answer (or several, if he didn't understand the first). 

"So, you thought you'd be safe enough?" 

Her question pulled him from his thoughts, and returned him to his tale. "Yeah, figured their ma would have 'em buttoned down. So we started building our snowman, and we were putting the middle ball on the bottom one when I got nailed by an ice ball. Fortunately, it hit my bad ear, so it couldn't make my hearing any worse, but that was the start of a truly epic snowball fight." Usually, he could tell if he was using modern slang correctly by her expression, but with her face covered, he could only hope. 

"So who won? The snowball fight?" 

He laughed again. It felt good to laugh. He hadn't done a lot of that since 1943 either, come to think of it. "I guess, call it a draw? Mrs. O'Malley came looking for her boys just as Officer Schmidt started glowering at us." 

"Did you ever get to finish the snowman?" 

"Nah. Mrs. O'Malley dragged the boys inside, and Schmidt frog-marched Bucky and me back home. Neither my Ma nor Bucky's was amused by our antics." 

Darcy started humming as she grabbed his hand and began pulling him out from under the protective ledge and into the rooftop garden. Flurries quickly dusted her clothes and the stray strands of hair that had snuck between the seams. 

"Darcy, what…" 

"C'mon, Steve. You're the only adult in New York who's never built a snowman!" 

Steve imagined he could hear her smiling not even an hour later as he posed next to their snowman (and snowcat), arm casually draped over the snowman's 'shoulder.' The snowman stood almost as tall as Steve and sported an inexpertly knitted crimson scarf, since Darcy had been willing to sacrifice one of the three she had been wearing to the effort. 

"This is so going on my Tumblr feed! Well, the one where Frosty's scarf blew across your face. It wouldn't do to tarnish your stern 'greatest generation' image!" 

Steve had to laugh. As part of that generation, he was well aware that they were no better – or worse – than other generations of Americans. They had just had enemies that were readily identifiable as threats to the whole world. 

"Tell you what, as thanks for helping my finish my first-ever snowman, I'll make you some hot chocolate, greatest generation style." 

"Oooooh, I'm always up for hot chocolate!" She followed him toward the warm building, shaking her arms and stomping her feet to get rid of the snow as she paused under the ledge where he had been standing, brooding, earlier. 

He shook the snow off his clothes and opened the door for her. He had become well acquainted with the tenets of modern feminism, and he certainly agreed with them, his ma having taken him with her to a march in favor of the ERA in the 1920s. Still, his ma had also raised him to be a gentleman, and he saw no harm in opening a door for a lady. 

Darcy swept through, unwinding a woven scarf in a blue that called Thor's lightning to mind. "Why, thank you, kind sir," she drawled in an amusingly bad impression of a Southern accent. 

Steve followed her through the door, peeling off his own hat and gloves. He tried a drawl as well, "You are ever so welcome, my lady." 

His accent was so bad that they both broke into fits of giggles as they walked over to the communal kitchen, still shrugging off their cold weather gear. 

Steve disappeared into the cavernous pantry, hunting for cocoa powder and sugar. 

Darcy pulled out a pan, mugs, and the milk, since she strongly suspected 'greatest generation' hot chocolate did not involve Swiss Miss packets or water. She also pulled out some mint brownies, which she had made before she noticed Steve standing out in the cold, and put them on a plate to share. 

Steve emerged from the pantry and set to work at the stove. Within minutes, he was filling the mugs with steamy, chocolaty goodness. He brought them to the small bar, at which Darcy sat watching him work. 

Darcy proffered the plate of brownies as he handed her a mug. 

As they sat, sipping cocoa and munching brownies in companionable quiet, Steve thought that perhaps the 21st century needn't be all that alien after all, and while he would always miss his friends who had died (and Bucky most of all), the century also held the prospect of new friends and new experiences. He smiled at the first of his new friends and took another bite of brownie.


End file.
